2022-04-29 - Home Improvement

So many of the houses on this stretch of Elm have that ramshackle half-abandoned look that it's sometimes hard to tell if anyone actually lives in them, let alone if that someone is currently home. There's a large black Dodge SUV in the driveway of Number 30, though, nosed up almost to the garage, though that door is shut up tight. Maybe it's a promising sign. Worst case? Well. The residents couldn't have run off with the toolbox, so if they have jumped ship, at least property recovery is a thing.

On slightly closer inspection, however, the front door is slightly ajar, wedged about four inches open from behind: enough to get a cross-breeze going, not enough that a certain dog is going to brute force her way through and go for an unscheduled romp across the neighborhood. The cross-breeze is important because of the heavy smell of Murphy's Orange drifting through. Maybe the plumbing isn't getting fixed any time soon, but there are a hundred and one other projects and maybe they don't have anything better to do.

During a brief break in the rain that has been falling steadily all day, Robin's very recognizable van pulls into the driveway and parks. For a longer time than necessary, it just sits there in the chill, engine ticking quietly as it cools, but eventually (finally) Robin climbs out of the driver's seat and heads up to the front door to knock. He's already lifting a hand to knock when he realizes the door is open, and he hesitates a bit, but then goes for it. Several raps on the open door, and he calls through the gap, "Hey, it's Robin? I came to get my toolbox out of your way..."

No rush. Like there's no rush for someone to actually come answer; it's a couple of seconds before Nicasia emerges in the visible space beyond. She's much quicker to recognize Robin and nudges the wedge out of the way to open the door up more properly, a wry, almost bitter smile appearing. "Hey," she greets. "I wondered if you were going to come back. Don't worry, the box is right exactly where you left it. But I suspect you know that already." She beckons him on in, clearing the entry so he can get past so that she can then peer outside at the gloom. "How've you been?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that..." Robin offers, with a crooked smile. "I should have come sooner. But I'll still look at your shower, if you want. We can maybe shut the water off at the street, instead." He steps inside, unzipping the jacket that had warded against the chill of the day. "Understandable if you don't, though. Me? I'm always fine. How are you? Both of you, I mean."

"Oh, it's alright. The room isn't getting any use at the moment, on account of its issues. Would be nice to have a functional second shower though." Nicasia nudges the door closed again, sliding the wedge back into place so there's just a bit of a gap. The air might be brisk and damp but it helps the smell of the interior, decades of claustrophobia, dust and nicotine now semi-aired, scrubbed down with oil soap and bleach and lemon pine-sol. Someone apparently likes citrus. "If you want another crack at it, you're welcome to. I guess, technically, we could also go look in the basement again, but I'm still not in a hurry to go down there."

His question wins a little shrug. "I'm alright. We're okay. Still settling in, figuring out how shit works. I mean that in both the mundane sense and the weird sense, too."

"I'm not going in the basement," Robin answers, with a little more force than was probably necessary, but he remembers to soften it with a little smile afterwards. "Sorry. Guess I'm not in a hurry, either."

He glances around, taking in the signs of cleaning. "You've been busy. It's already starting to look better in here... Seems like you're in the middle of something, though. Probably a bad time to shut off the water." Some curiosity returns to his eyes. "How's your..." He wiggles his fingers in a 'woo woo' gesture. "Mind voodoo stuff? Find anyone to practice on?"

That quick vehemence makes Nicasia laugh. "I live here and I don't want to go down there. But hell, I didn't before it turned out to literally be the pathway to a nightmare."

She's not real worried about it. Stuff does look a little neater. Fewer boxes of junk. Different furniture. "I don't need the water for what I've been doing," she counters. "Got a bucket of suds already and, between you and me, I think I'm done scrubbing for a while. Maybe someday I'll even be able to paint." There is a tiny pause after that thought is shared, wherein she looks down the hallway, thoughtful, but comes back for the next question. "I put an ad in the paper; I have twelve regular customers already." Blink. "No, not really. I don't know many peope, let alone well enough to ask if they want to be guinea pigs."

Robin blinks several times, apparently taking her at her word until she reveals that she's joking and he gives a little chuckle. "Well, you can practice on me, if you want. It's not like it lasts very long. And what if there's other people out there who can do shit like that? It would be good to know what it feels like, and if it's possible to counter it." He glances back toward the front door, then back to Nicasia, quizzically. "Do you know where your water meter is?"

"I'll tell you what," Nicasia decides, "you get the shower fixed, I'll see if I can mojo up another batch of that, and invite you to stay for dinner. Though I can't make any promises on what that is just yet. We apparently have a new fridge, but the shopping was a little light." He inquires about the water meter and her brows lift. "I don't know. Probably in the basement." Also not serious, but possibly she can't help but pick around the edges of that fresh scab. "It's the side door, toward the garage, alongside the electric."

Robin's glance reflexively goes to the basement door, but he at least gives a weak chuckle at the joke. "Right. Well, I'll see if I can find the city shutoff, eh?" He starts off in that direction, but turns to walk backwards a few steps. "You don't have to cook dinner, but I never turn down food cooked in a real kitchen by actual humans." With that, he follows her instructions to find the side door, and vanishes for a few minutes. When he returns, it's with a more confident grin. "Found it. Guess I'll get to work." He heads for the stairs, but chats over his shoulder as he goes. "You know, I never asked what line of work you two are in?"

The door in question is by the door to the basement, but it's conveniently closed and even has boxes stacked in front of it again. Someone is a champion at conquering their fears. "Food cooked in a real kitchen by actual humans. I think we can even manage that." Nicasia finds her bucket of soap and water in the meantime and goes back to what she was doing: de-griming wood. At least she pretends at it. Conversation is easier, and lures her up after him, though not in much of a hurry. "Not entirely unlike your own line of work, apparently. We're in bonds. Myles is the licensed bondsman, I'm a sip tracer."

Robin raises his eyebrows and gives a quick little laugh at that. "I don't know about all /that/. I don't usually deal with anything that has legs." He heads into the bathroom even as he's continuing the conversation. "Made that rule after I spent three days hunting someone's cat that wouldn't stay still long enough to be found." He starts pulling tools out of the toolbox, and winds up with more than really should fit in there. "That sounds kind of dangerous? But I guess that explains the gun."

As before, so now; the bathroom is exactly as it was the other day, though it's had time to dry, and the shower curtain is gone, along with the rod it was on. "Never gone looking for a cat before," Nicasia admits. She sets the bucket down in the hall but doesn't dive in to start with the scrubbery, maybe more interested in actually watching whatever disaster the mysterious shower holds than more work of her own. "But hey, I've spent at least three days hunting people who wouldn't stay still long enough to be found. It can be dangerous. Not very often. Most bail jumpers are pretty cowardly. But. Yeah, that explains the gun."

"I don't recommend it," Robin advises, with a smirk. "Cats suck." Once his tools are neatly lined up, he gets to work dismantling the shower, starting with a rag in the drain to avoid losing any screws. "Cowardly people can be as dangerous as brave ones," he observes, as he lines up screws and other bits and pieces in a neat line on the side of the tub. "I'd think the brave ones would be more predictable, at least. But what do I know?"

"They can," Nicasia admits, "but they're a different sort of dangerous, I suppose. Most of them aren't actually looking for a fight so much as hiding out, so you show up where they're hiding and they just kind of roll over. Most. Definitely not all, but that's why he gets a badge and cuffs to go with the gun. Makes some of the real badges a little cranky, sometimes, but some of them are glad for the help. People are always a little bit unpredictable that way." She's not actually going to hover. There is stuff up here she can do without really being nosy, without watching over his shoulder, or worse, getting in the way. "It's a living, though. Not a great one, but watcha gonna do?"

"I mean, it sounds interesting?" Robin offers. "Sounds like a real career." With the faucets removed, he starts pulling out the guts, and a ring of black sludge comes out onto his hand. He gives an amused little snort. "See that? That's your gasket. Totally rotten. I might have some, hold on." He flicks the goo-looking bit of rubber into the trash, wipes his hands on some tissue, then dives back into the toolbox. "Is that what brings you here? Skip tracing?"

Nicasia snerks a little at the idea that it's a real career. "That's entirely subjective. And by subjective I mean subject to the interpretation of whoever you happen to be talking to at the time." She does peer around the doorframe when he displays the gasket though, expression twisting in a hint of disgust. "Kind of a tiny bit to be responsible for so much trouble. Fantastic. But it sounds like an easy fix, maybe." Maaaybe. There is a slightly longer pause before she shakes her head. "Yeah, sort of. Myles's father used to live here. He was also a bail bondsman, and when he died, he left the whole mess to Myles. So we're business partners." This then is the point where she deflects, asking, "What about you?"

"Easy if you've got the right part," Robin confirms. "Oughta check the whole house, really." He continues digging through the toolbox, pulling out random bits and tools like some sort of plumber Mary Poppins. "Huh. Better reason than me. I was passing through and ran out of gas money." He digs down in the toolbox nearly to his shoulder, then finally emerges triumphant with a small plastic container full of black rubber gaskets. "Ha! These oughta do it. Anyway, I've probably got enough to move on, but there's so many of the shimmery people here." He gestures at Nicasia, as an example. "Maybe I'll stay a bit. See what that's all about, you know?"

"You wanna check the whole house, knock yourself. And, well, we won't tell Myles." This is really the first time that Nicasia has really realized the purpose of the toolbox and she now does lurk in the doorway, watching, one brow arching a little - and then a lot - as he pulls random stuff on out. She doesn't actually have to lean up on her toes to peer inside, but maybe it's the thought that counts. "There are a lot of shiny people here. Seems like a lot of them are kind of in your same boat. Drifted through. Meant to wander through, headed elsewhere, just never did leave. Something about the place wanting people, or people who're meant to be here showing up, or... seems a little hokey to me but what do I know?"

That toolbox is definitely bigger on the inside. But Robin has already moved on, and returns to the shower to start putting things back together. Something about what she says gives him pause, though, screw held aloft in preparation for returning it to its rightful place. "Oh Jesus. Did I fall into some sort of shadow creature flytrap for shimmery people?" The horror of that thought sits for a minute before he shakes it off and gets back to work. "That can't be it. People don't seem miserable enough for that to be right. Do they?"

It remains to be seen whether the shower works now, whether water goes spraying everywhere in a moment when the water gets turned on, and Nicasia is maybe morbidly curious about it. Maybe. Robin's pause is noticed and she doesn't address it immediately, but the hesitation is, perhaps, telling. She catches her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, contemplatively. "Maybe." Unfortunately she's not going to sugarcoat it for him. "Apparently something about this area is different, and it attracts... shimmery people." Sure. She'll go with that. "They don't seem very miserable, no. All of 'em I've talked to have apparently wanted to be here, which, on paper, seems a little - okay a lot - strange, you know? Living in a place that can suck you in and chew you up and then spit you out to limp away and heal up so it can chase you down and chew you up again doesn't seem like the sort of place anyone with a lick of sense would want to stay, let alone be."

Silence carves its way in for a moment, two, three. Then, "I guess they like it here. Makes for some interesting company. Maybe it's nice to have people around who have had similar experiences. Similar powers, Similar nightmares."

Robin frowns at all of that. "Well, it's not unique to this town," he points out, as he continues reassembling the faucet. "I was getting sucked in to the shadows a long time before I ever came here. The difference here is that there's more people who know about it. So my guess is the similar experiences thing." He moves on to removing the shower head, though his thoughts are somewhere entirely different. "Same reason rainbow kids get together and make clubs, you know? They still do it, even when they know it's going to make someone want to beat them up."

"If you're gonna be fucking miserable, at least be fucking miserable with company?" Nicasia's translation is a little rougher around the edges. She leans now, crossing her arms, letting the frame of the door offer a bit of support. "It might be that. That seems to be the most common obvious reason, among the ones I asked. Friends, friends like family. I guess it makes it seem more like it's the choice they wanted to make, not one made for them." For a moment then she's quiet, time taken to get around to, "I doubt it's really a trap. People do leave. And I assume they leave in the normal way, moving on to places that maybe suck a little less."

"I was never much of a club joiner before," Robin admits, "But I can see the appeal." There's another gasket in the shower that he replaces, then starts putting things back together. It takes him longer to come up with an answer to the trap question, but he finally offers, "If it's a trap, they're using the same sort of voodoo that you seem to have. And I don't know, but... I think if it were a trap, it wouldn't let me think about it being a trap, you know? And if I really wanted to test it, I could. Maybe someday I will." With everything put back together, he grabs the cloth out of the drain and moves on to the sink faucet to do a similar procedure.

"Me either. Always kind of done my own thing, and then done that the hard way on top of it." This is ventured with a look back into the hallway, down the stairs, though Nicasia doesn't wander off to go back to what she was doing. She takes a bit of time to soak in the ambiance though, a tiny frown turning down the corners of her mouth like she's remembering something. Maybe a lot of somethings. "Trap is probably the wrong word for it. Evidently there's something about this specific patch of real estate - the town, not the house," because that definitely needs spelled out, "that makes it stranger than usual. A much higher population of glowfolk. Apparently a really large population of cryptids and other strange shit, though I can't say as I've seen any of that personally. So less like a trap and maybe more like... a low-power magnet that pulls things in."

Robin focuses on the fiddly work of getting the sink faucets dismantled, with a small frown. "Maybe it's more like... watering hole in the desert, sort of thing." He makes a neat little line of parts on the counter as he goes. "The water draws the gazelles, and maybe there's crocodiles in the water, but you still gotta drink." He lifts a shoulder, and cleans out some equally disintegrated gaskets from inside the faucets. "Or maybe there's no analogy that will make sense, because we're not dealing with anything of this world."

"Same difference. Magic fly trap. Giant magnet. Watering hole. We're all here, aren't we? We either make the best of it, or we're miserable. I guess we can be miserable and still make the best of it but you get no excuses if you don't at least try." She makes a face at the nasty gasket, then. "You know there's at least four more of those around here, right? I can't imagine the ones in the other bathroom are any better, which means it might be a miracle the sink hasn't flooded the kitchen, or the washer hasn't just straight up exploded yet." Mundane problems seem oddly less problematic when compared with the metaphysical ones.

Robin lifts a shoulder. "I like the watering hole analogy. At least then I can pretend I decided to come here." He shoots a smirk at her, and starts reassembling the faucets with the new gaskets. "We'll get the whole house while I'm here," he promises, easily. "No big deal, really. And maybe that'll make up for the basement a bit." As he tightens up a couple of screws, he focuses on what he's doing. "How did your... um. Myles. How did Myles recover from everything? He doing okay?" It takes him just a moment to remember the name.

Nicasia tsks quietly "I'm sure you came of your own volition. Even stayed here because you want to be here. For some reason. For new reasons, every day, even. Justification is real easy." She shakes her head then. "The basement thing really was not your fault. I've had... a couple of nightmares of my own like that. Not like that but, you know. I didn't realize we could end up in them together, but I imagine it might be better being there with company." It's a long moment before she gives up on looking at the stairs, peers in again to inspect the work in progress. "He's fine," she answers. "He got over it real damn quick."

Robin starts putting away the tools he didn't use, clearing up in preparation for moving downstairs. He looks a little skeptical about Myles, but doesn't question it. "Well, that's good to hear. Guess your line of work must make you guys pretty difficult to shake." After a few beats spent tucking away tools into the bottomless toolbox, he adds, "I think it's better having people there. Sorry, not that I'd wish that on anyone else, but... All the emotion shit aside, we worked together, you know? Between the three of us, we figured things out faster than I would have alone."

"Resiliant," she provides. "Stuff still rattles us. I mean, you were there, you saw that. At any given moment any two of us were about one step away from totally losing our shit. So yeah, it was better having people in there. Two woulda been beeter than one. Three was definitely better than two. I'm not sure it's something you can ever count on though. Or plan on. Or... I don't know. Dunno how any of it works, honestly. If that does happen to you on the regular, I'm glad we were there for that one." She even sounds like she means it. A breath is drawn in, let out very carefully. "But then that seems to be why people stay. So you have backup. Or someone you can talk to afterward who understands, who isn't going to think you're nuts, or just forget what you said five minutes after you're gone."

Nicasia's declaration has Robin looking at her with a faint surprise, and for several moments, he doesn't seem to know what to say, allowing her to continue talking as he finishes putting away his tools. He keeps a screwdriver and wrench out, along with the packet of gaskets, climbs back to his feet. "It's... nice, that it wasn't alone. Even if it was just that once," he offers, awkwardly. "And to have someone to talk to." He clears his throat a little and gestures toward the door. "You said four others? I'm guessing another bathroom and the kitchen, at least..."

"I'm just sorry that it was, you know. Our basement." A wry little twist of smile accompanies this. Nicasia shakes her head, though. "That place has always given me the creeps. Not sure what we're going to do with it. It's probably a fire hazard. Maybe full of rats." Mundane stuff; no monsters there. Honest. The expression softens up for the other part though and she tilts her head a little. "Yeah, I can imagine getting into that alone. I wonder, though. Is there some kind of trigger for it? Something that makes it happen more often, less often?" But he gestures and she shoves off, stepping back out into the hall. "There's the other bathroom up here. The kitchen sink. And the washer hookup. I'm glad it seems to be an easy fix, though. No lies, I was kind of afraid it was going to require some demolition."

"I don't know," Robin admits. "I tried at first to figure it out. I used to keep notes and everything, but couldn't figure out any sort of pattern." He lifts a shoulder and follows the directions down to the other upstairs bathroom. "But if you figure something out, let me know, eh? I'd love to figure out how to avoid it." As he gets to work on the second bathroom, he gives a little grin over his shoulder. "Your pipes are pretty old. I'd put money you're going to have other problems to deal with, but this is a good place to start."

"Maybe there's a pattern, maybe it's just because we're special." The second bathroom is a little cleaner, probably because it gets used on the regular. It's attached to what could be the master bedroom. It has a new shower curtain. Towels. Things like shampoo and body wash in a rack over the shower faucet. Not, though, the same immediate water problem, but Nicasia is apparently all in on getting the whole thing done at once, and as before she does now lean in the doorway because she's completely given up on regular work. "The whole house has problems. Pipes though... nothing we can do about that, I guess, other than to baby them and hope they decide not to rust out in the middle of the night. There're treads on the porch that need replaced. Sheetrock that needs patched. It could use a new roof, new siding, new fencing. At some point we just need a whole new fucking house."

"I noticed a few things," Robin admits, with an apologetic tone. He works as he talks, making shorter work of the master bathroom, since it's somewhat better shape. "Short of ripping everything out and replumbing the whole house? Yeah, I don't know." He glances back at her now and then, maintaining the conversation though the bulk of his attention is on the task at hand. "Well, if you wind up wanting help with anything, give me a call. The roof is beyond me, but I'm pretty handy with general things."

"It's an old house. And it's like every other house on the block: just one bad storm away from collapsing like it was made out of cards." Nicasia isn't apologetic about it. Just accepting. Maybe even a tiny bit annoyed, but that part gets buried deep and then shrugged off. "We'll probably just deal with it the way it's been dealt with: handle stuff as it comes up and ignore it when it isn't looking for attention. Maybe slap a few coats of paint on so at least it looks better." Her gaze flits to the window just there, and out through the murky glass. "Or I'll throw in the towel and go find an apartment someplace where I don't have to worry quite so much about what that noise is in the middle of the night." It's a couple of moments before she comes back to, "So what else do you do, besides find things and take odd jobs?"

Robin looks up and around, as though somehow viewing the whole house through the walls. He gets that crooked little grin and admits, "I think it's kind of charming. I mean, it could be, with a little work and maybe fill the basement full of concrete." When the sink faucet is done, he goes to the shower. The gaskets looked quite a bit better on these, but he replaces them, anyway. "I never really lived in a house that didn't have wheels under it. I can't decide if it sounds comforting or more... Stifling."

"I don't think we can afford that much concrete. Maybe we'll just wall off the stairs, call it a day." There's no particular hurry, only that watchfulness, though maybe by the time she's seen the third gasket replaced Nicasia has gotten to the point where she could almost do it herself. "It really depends on the occupants. I've lived in a bunch of places. Most of them little apartments not a whole lot bigger than your castle on wheels, but with higher rent. One of them had a pool though; that was pretty nice. This is... I don't know I'd go so far as to call it charming. It's not even mine though, so I don't owe it any special loyalty, just... until something else comes up, I'd prefer to have my shower back." There's a longish moment of contemplation, followed up by another question. "How long have you been here?"

There's something questioning that comes up in Robin's expression, but he doesn't /immediately/ ask. He focuses on the shower for the moment, and the topic of mobile living versus stationary. "Well, can't blame you on the shower thing. Me? I don't know, maybe a month, I guess? Not long." As he finishes up the shower and prepares to pack everything downstairs, he glances up toward Nicasia. "So you and Myles, you aren't like... A couple or whatever? I guess I kind of assumed."

He doesn't ask, and Nicasia doesn't volunteer, doesn't even acknowledge that questioning something. But she's only watching on and off anyway. "A whole month, huh." Some vague mental note is made before he gets around to that question and she laughs, just a little. "Oh. We're whatever, alright. He's my business partner and my ex-husband. And by ex- I mean we got married right after high school and it... didn't last very long."

Robin quirks a brow, but offers a little grin in response to her laugh. "Well, at least you have a good relationship, I guess?" It's definitely a question, but he leads the way downstairs, hauling his toolbox along as he goes. "It seems like you get along, is what I mean." He keeps an eye on his footing as he goes down the stairs, given what she's said about the condition of the house. "That's kind of impressive, actually."

The kitchen is in way better shape than it was last time. There's a brand new fridge even, which looks almost out of place among the old cabinets, but it's something. "We have something. It's complicated." Nicasia says this, but it isn't exactly a dismissal, not said the way people do when they don't want to talk about a thing. She goes to open the fridge though, to rummage around it to figure out what is for dinner, since she offered. "I guess it's impressive. You mange to stick with anyone for 17, 18 years and either you have a good relationship or one of you is doing life for attempted homicide."

"I get complicated," Robin claims, from his lofty vantage of... What, 12 years old? "But you two don't seem like you're getting ready to kill each other, so." He gets started working on the kitchen sink, with an occasional glance over at Nicasia's dinner project. "I'll be done is a second, and then I can get the water back on for you."

Nicasia only smiles at the idea that they don't seem like they're getting ready to kill each other. But she stares into the fridge for a few more moments before asking, "Is there anything you don't eat, or does meatloaf and mashed potatoes sound okay?" The ultimately unplanned meal of champions, right there. And maybe she is totally changing the subject, deflecting with promises of food. "It'll take about half an hour to bake, but I figure that'll give me time to practice. Meantime I've gotten to wondering about all of that. Calm seems to work okay, but maybe I can do other emotions, too."

As a fellow in his mid-20s, food is a pretty plausible distraction tactic, and it seems to work just as well on Robin. "Meatloaf is awesome!" He shoots her a bright grin, and explains, "We never did meatloaf growing up." As promised, the kitchen sink is a pretty quick affair, and he's soon cleaning up tools and setting the toolbox aside. "I kind of thought of that, too. Other emotions would be useful, I bet... I guess so far the only rule we know for sure is you don't have to feel whatever you're trying to make other people feel."

It's like she knows. Even without being psychic. "Never?" That's a touch incredulous, but Nicasia isn't one to waste an opportunity, just lifts her chin at one of the lower drawers over yonder as she gets out ground meat and eggs and a bottle of hot sauce. "You want to wash your hands and peel some potatoes?" This, it seems, is actually optional, not like she's just angling for more work while she's got him here. No, really. "It's a good thing I don't have to be feeling it, or you definitely would not have enjoyed the experience. There are a lot of possibilities, and I can think of situations where most of them might even be useful. I'm not sure how many you really want to experience, though."

Robin lifts a shoulder. "Didn't have an oven," he reveals, cheerfully. "Let me go get the water back on and make sure nothing leaks." With that explanation, he takes off to do exactly that. It doesn't take too long, and a few moments later, his footsteps can be heard trotting up the stairs to check everything out. Soon, he emerges, and tests out the kitchen sink by washing his hands. When air in the lines clears and everything is running smoothly, he gives a satisfied little nod. "No promises it doesn't break again, but it's working for now."

When his hands are clean and he's rinsed some potatoes to start peeling, he gets back to the subject of testing emotions. "I mean, I dunno. So far, it never lasts long. A few minutes, right? I figure I can put up with just about anything, if it's just a few minutes." Famous last words, right there. "Besides, I'm kinda curious what you can do."

It's fine, really; it gives her time to find a pot and a baking sheet, to get the oven turned on, and to start mixing up the ground meat into some approximation of slightly more flavorful ground meat. Whether it's cheating to just add hot sauce and salt and pepper or not is debatable, but who's going to judge? Someone with no oven? "You want like five of those, mostly peeled." It's very simple instructions, but overall this is a pretty simple dinner.

On balance it's a lot less complicated than the idea of testing various powers. "Maybe there's a way to extend the duration," Nicasia muses. "It's less helpful if you're calm for thirty seconds and then go back to wanting to whack me with a wrench or whatever. Probably not helpful if I actively make you want to hit me with a wrench, either, even if it is only for thirty seconds. Let's see, what else does that give us? Fear, joy, sadness, hopefulness...?"

Robin follows directions, picking out five potatoes to get to work on. He certainly doesn't seem to be judging anyone's culinary skills, but he also doesn't seem like someone who's done a lot of potato peeling, either. He'll get them done sooner or later.

"I mean, the way I figure, it's a strategy thing, right? How do I explain..." He takes a moment, dropping several peels into the trash before he gathers his explanation. "I mean, you made it so I could think straight. And once I had a plan, I wasn't /so/ freaked out." Another few peels go into the trash, with a slightly self-conscious glance toward Nicasia. "I mean. Not as bad, anyway. Does that make sense?"

Once the meat is mixed up and laid out on the sheet pan what is approximately a loaf shape, Nicasia takes advantage of the now fully operational sink to wash her hands off, then sets the pot in it to start filling with water before adding salt. And then some more salt. And after a moment of contemplation, a little bit more salt on top of that.

"It's probably strategic, yeah. Different if I need to give you a morale boost that doesn't come from yelling at you," which didn't at all work, "or if I'm going to try and use it offensively. Which is a totally different sort of a test. But yeah, I guess it makes sense. That was the whole point, to help you regroup. Though it really wasn't an intentional thing, you know? If it's going to be useful, it may need some willpower driving it. Or, you know, maybe not. But clearly people can make stuff happen, and at some point I'd like to reach a phase in my life where I'm not just moving from one accident to another."

"Potstickers, bitches!"

The loud voice is punctuated by the slamming of the door. Though the voice is loud it's not necessarily gleeful. It's not a cheerful declaration, its more of a dominant, triumphant one. Like he wrestled the potstickers into submission.

Lady comes skittering out to the front door as Myles enters, going down to one knee. "Hey baby." The voice instantly softens once they hear the sound of Lady going to greet the man. "That's my girl. Good girl. No that's not for you. Did you not get food?" Beat. "Don't worry baby, I'll yell at her for you."

As Myles makes his way into the kitchen with Lady in tow perhaps he intended to give some attitude but stops when his eyes fall on Nicasia and Robin. He has a big brown paper bag in his hand. It's big. Clearly he got a lot of food. But there's too much to respond to all at once. He glances to Robin, back to Nicasia, to the food, down to Lady for not warning him about this then finally back up.

He starts to open his mouth-- Stops. And just gives Robin an up-nod.

"Yeah... But I guess there's lots of emotions you could try, ultimately. Relief, love, pride, loneliness, grief, resignation, confusion, doubt--" The litany of emotions is interrupted by a very loud arrival that most definitely causes Robin to jump. It's probably pure luck that he doesn't lop a finger off, but he only drops a half-peeled potato into the sink.

He scoops it back up, but pauses to look up as Myles comes in, offering a tentative sort of half smile. He glances to Nicasia, then focuses full attention on Myles. "Hey." A beat. "I came to fetch my toolbox and finish what I started. Your upstairs bathroom works, now?" Said toolbox is now resting on the floor to the side of the kitchen, where it won't be a trip hazard.

It doesn't take an empath to see the 'oooops' expression Nicasia dons ever so very, very briefly. Still moving from one accident to another, apparently. Ah but she recovers quickly enough and turns away from the counter to lean on it instead, drying her hands on the stomach portion of her shirt in lieu of an actual dishrag. There aren't any. It's apparently inevitable that Myles is going to come in here so she just waits, emotion all interrupted and focused into a careful sort of calm, of which it's only the slight lift of her jaw that suggests she might be squaring up for something defensive.

Except that it's not. "Hey," she echoes. There's no reiteration of Robin's little bit of story time, only, "I told him he could stay for dinner if he got it fixed. He changed all the nasty-ass moldy rotted gaskets in all the drains and he's never had meatloaf." Her attempt at the sympathy ploy is kind of trumped by the enormous bag of Chinese food though and she bites on her lower lip for a moment before adding, "I kind of thought you might be pleasantly surprised." And, after a moment, "at least we have a fridge now?"

Myles looks from Robin to Nicasia and back. "Thanks." He grunts over to Robin. "Appreciate it." That means he has to use the other shower now. Which SURPRISINGLY he doesn't seem super excited about. Maybe he liked occupying Nicasia's shower. "Nice of you." He grunts over to him. His eyes slowly going over to Nicasia. She thought he would be pleasantly surprised.

"You didn't get much of that spicy chicken." Because he ate it all. "So I thought--" The Chinese food is lifted and set on the counter. He looks down at what they're making. "Never had meatloaf?" He squints over at Robin as if trying to decipher what his deal is or how this is possible.

He grunts. "Fuck. You shoulda called me." Or he could've called her.

Robin goes remarkably silent as he glances between Myles and Nicasia. There are several moments there where he seems to be debating if he should continue peeling potatoes, but in the end, continuing wins out if only because it gives him something to do that isn't just standing there. "I grew up in a bus," he volunteers, as explanation, and only after a moment realizes it might require some corollary explanation. "It was a very nice bus, but no oven." There, that ought to explain it, right? Right.

He pauses peeling the potatoes, after finishing the one he'd been working on when Myles comes in, and wipes his hands off on the sides of his pants. "I mean, listen, it's probably getting kind of late. I bet you guys had shit you were planning to do tonight. I didn't mean to get in the way."

"Yeah. Well. The last time we had Chinese I didn't end up feeling so well afterward," Nicasia answers in what is not exactly the same flat sort of tone Myles uses, but near enough for horseshoes and hand grenades. So much for enthusiasm. "I coulda called." Or he should've.

Then Robin chimes in and she straightens up and takes a breath, tilting her head at him like his explanation is going to have to stand. "Could just eat all of it. Or have it tomorrow. Or whatever. Most of it's fine for leftovers. Except for the potstickers..." She forms up a silent single syllable of profanity here that doesn't quite get breath. Then, "Oh no you don't. If you don't stick around for dinner we're gonna have to go meet the neighbors and start giving food away or something. It's fine," she promises. "You're not in the way. We just gotta learn to work on our communication skills."

"Never found it in the trash or nothin?" It's probably meant as a joke. But then Nicasia says she didn't feel so good after Chinese. Myles looks over. Offended. Appalled. How dare--

There's a dismissive wave of his hand to Robin. "Nah, son. Stay. Never heard of Chinese and meatloaf? Fuckin' classic." The bag is finally shoved away from him as he goes to lean over to greet Lady once more. Communication skills. "We've only been around each other for twenty fuckin' years. Still gettin' to know each other, you know?" He grunts with a flicker of a smile to Robin.

Robin blinks once, a little nonplussed by the joke. He's not exactly laughing, but he manages a stiff sort of smile. "We're hippies, not homeless people." But at least with both Nicasia's and Myles's reassurances, he goes back to peeling the last couple of potatoes. "I guess if it puts you in danger of meeting the neighbors, I /have/ to stay."

When he's got the last potato peeled, he casually slides the bowl across for Nicasia to dictate next steps, while tossing a glance back to Myles. "We figured we'd practice our jedi skills a bit, later."

Myles looks offended, Nicasia just arches an eyebrow at him, that tiny tilt of her head almost but not quite a come at me bro sort of look. Buuuut they have company and he relents and is trying to make jokes so she backs down as well. "I'm pretty sure that van of yours is nicer than my second apartment was. But yeah. Stay. Eat. We'll try to avoid Round 2 of the Box Maze, and I won't let the neighbors know that we have extra food. With my luck they're all secretly stray cats and I'd never be rid of them."

The next step involves a cutting board and a knife and she gives instructions that Robin maybe has to follow. "Try for one inch cubes. But it's mashed potatoes not high school geometry so unless you have a jedi power for precision cutting you really just want to get them all about this big." A fingertip and thumb pinch together about an inch apart. It frees her up to try Round 2 of welcoming Myles home, which amounts to a much gentler, "Hey. You okay?"

Myles is looking down at Robin. Homeless people, hippies. He starts to say something but that not quite come at me bro look from Nicasia distracts him. He just lets out a grunt until Robin says they'll practice their jedi skills. He grunts wordlessly once more before, "Yeah. Sure." There's a look over to Nicasia.

"Fine. I'm gonna go take a shower." He makes his way out, heading upstairs. Even though Robin said he fixed it Nicasia will be able to identify the sound as definitely her shower.

Robin most definitely watches Myles go while trying not to look too much like he's watching. He remembers to get busy cutting up potatoes once Myles has departed, but he doesn't actually say anything until the sound of water running signals the shower starting. "Is he normally like that, or is he angry?" he asks, while chopping away at the potatoes. They aren't exactly perfect cubes, but they'll do.

When Myles turns to go Nicasia likewise turns away to examine what he brought home for dinner, poking through the bag and examining the menu like she might be having her own second thoughts about meatloaf. It lasts until she hears the water turn on upstairs and then the "motherfucker" is absolutely audible, but she affixes a smile a beat later like it isn't really a big deal.

"Like what?" Specificity is probably important here. Then, "Nah, he's not angry. He just has a certain approach to life, is all. The major tell there is his attempt at a joke. If he was genuinely pissed off, that woulda gone a whole different way." She gives up on the bag of food though, and now leans over to scritch dog ears. Lady has come where the food is, and even if she isn't going to beg, she's definitely going to try and remind everyone that she would also like some dinner please.

"Is that what that was?" Robin answers, with a vague little smile. "I'll make a note of it for the future." The knife keeps snapping through the potatoes at a regular pace, keeping most of the younger man's attention on the task at hand. He changes the subject to something slightly safer. "So... I'm thinking I also want to figure out if it's possible to counter that mind voodoo stuff. Or even recognize it if you don't know it's happening. That shit could be dangerous if it's coming from someone who isn't nice, and I figure if one person can do it, probably other people can too."

"Attempt," Nicasia repeats. "He's not..."

And then she stops, and shakes her head, and turns around so that she can put the meat lump in the oven. The cut potatoes are dumped into the water and she then loiters to wait for the rest, so they can all be boiled properly together. "That's not a bad plan. I don't know if you'd recognize it, but then I don't even really know what it looks like. Or feels like. But then nobody I've encountered so far has owned up to having similar skills, so maybe they just don't advertise so you can't prepare." It's pondered for a moment. "Maybe I can try and hit you twice. Once as kind of a warmup, and then once so you know it's coming."

"It'll take practice," Robin explains, as he finishes cutting up the last potato. "But that's as good a plan as any. Make it something weird for the first time so it's easier to spot. We can try harder things once we master the basics." With the last potato finished, he scrapes the cubes into the pot. The cutting board and knife get rinsed in the sink and set out to dry, before it turns back to Nicasia and leans a hip against the counter. "It's probably more scary if people /aren't/ owning up to it..."

That'll do it. The pot is put on the burner and turned up so it'll start boiling and she punches in some numbers on the timer so maybe things won't burn beyond the point of edibility. "What's a weird emotion?" Nicasia wonders. "Or is it dealer's choice?" And, "Ava took one look at me and knew approximately what I can do. Like letter grades or power levels or something. It's pretty damned peculiar since I really don't know what I can do. That's more scary. But alright. C'mon."

She will lead around to the living room, and settles herself on one end of the sofa, curling a leg up beneath her so she's at an angle. It maybe conveniently lets her keep an eye on the hallway and the staircase, but the odds of Myles coming back down undetected are pretty slim. If that is indeed what she is concerned about. Lady tags along, coming to lay down on the floor by her foot, probably not now wanting to be left out. But this means it's time for the next emotional charge and she brings her hands together, rubbing one set of fingers and then the other like maybe this is going to help her dial it in.

"Ava?" Robin echoes. "Weird. But I guess if there are people who can do things, there are probably people who can see what people can do?" Seems logical to him, apparently. He follows Nicasia back to the living room, and flops on the other end of the couch, sprawling in the corner formed by the back and arm, turned slightly toward her. "I guess it's dealer's choice if you're going to try to make it a surprise? And it'll be easier to know if it's really working. No placebo effect or whatever."

"Ava. Dr. Brennon. She's one of the fixtures here, I guess; one of the glowfolk who've been here most of her life. We went to high school together; now she's a coroner. Seems to have as good a handle on what's going on around here as anybody, I guess. And maybe. It's awful disconcerting to have someone analyze you like that." This is the easy part of what Nicasia has to say. The conversational part.

The harder part is the experimental phase, when she draws in a breath and considers for a long, long moment. "Alright. No placebo effect. Here we go, let me know if this works..."

That same breath is let out in a slow exhale and she closes her eyes, letting the emotion she's picked out for this exercise roll out and over poor Robin like a wave. It isn't that calm sun-baked half-drunk lazy sensation. Oh no. No, this is a peculiar sense of nameless, formless bittersweetness, nostalgia and wistfulness and sadness all blended together, wrapped around the sudden awareness that if something had gone just a tiny bit different in his life - the metaphorical road not taken - they'd not be sitting here having this conversation. He wouldn't be in Gray Harbor; wouldn't even be in the state of Washington; wouldn't live in a van or find odd things for fun and profit: might actually have just graduated from college, might still live at home, might be just a minute from sitting down at his mother's table in a scenario that is just different enough to be a totally different life.

And Robin was not prepared for it. That feeling breaks over him like a wave and he goes under, blinking hard. For a moment or two, his attention wanders to the room, almost as though he'd lost interest in the exercise. Oh look! It's a chair. And over there is another box. And isn't this an interesting bit of loose thread here on this sleeve?

But gradually that front cracks, in a twitch of the lips, or a slightly hitched in breath. Finally, he mutters a little, "Shit." He digs his thumbs into his eyes with a grimace, holding his breath for a moment before he looks up at the ceiling. "Damn. That's you, right? Better be you." He still blinks hard and his eyes have a bit too much shine. Maybe there's a bit of a waver in his voice, but he's managed to keep it mostly together. "There's no way I'd know if you snuck up on me with that shit. That's too real, man."

The problem here of course is that Nicasia doesn't know how to turn it off once it's on, so... fortunately it probably won't last more than a few minutes?

She cracks one green eye open, then the other, then summons up a very faint smile. "Yeah. You.. said you wanted weird. I figured most of the obvious emotions were going to be too obvious. Or too easy. I don't need to be psychic to piss people off, for instance." There's a slight glance at the ceiling, where the sound of the shower is running pretty much right overhead, but her expression softens right back up and she holds up her hands, palms outward. "Too much? I suppose I could try and put something else there instead."

"I mean--" Robin starts, and then stops himself. He presses his lips together, and fidgets a bit with the sleeve of his shirt. "I guess that was a dumb request. I kind of meant something I wouldn't usually feel? But you don't know me that well, and... Fuck, I'm an idiot." He digs his thumb into his eye again, and takes a deep breath. "Does it work that way?" he wonders, to the question of putting something else in. "Or does it just-- You know what? Fuck it, this sucks. Try it."

Does it work that way?

There's only one way to find out!

Nicasia takes another breath and holds it long enough to do whatever it is she does, concentrating for a moment, and then there's a new tide to come in and wash over the old one. And maybe it won't scrub out the memory of that feeling, immediate thought it may be in time, but sure enough it temporarily replaces that nostalgic sadness for a thing that doesn't even really exist with the more familiar one from the park: that languid, tranquil calm, warm inside and out like being baked to a nap by the summer sun. The hell of this is that she has very little idea of whether it actually works or not until it does, or doesn't, and then she sighs quietly. "Yeah, I suspect that's something you may want to learn to try and block. If you can."

The shower finally shuts off. There is the sound of paws tapping against the ground. The sound of big steps upstairs.

Slowly, Robin settles down, and lets out a slow breath. Muscles loosen, and he lets his head settles back into the couch cushion as something much more pleasant banishes that nostalgia. "That's... Better. I like that one a lot better." He tries to shake off some of the lassitude induced by that calm, but even as he sits up a bit more, he's still holding a pretty casual posture, with a faint smile teasing at the corners of his lips. "Definitely gotta try and block those bad ones, though. That sucked ass."

He glances up at the ceiling as the shower shuts off, and though the calm doesn't dissipate, he does give a very faint frown. "Hey listen... Don't do the sad ones if Myles is around, okay? He'll think I'm a wuss or something."

"Problem is, you don't know which ones are going to be the bad ones. It's like an all or nothing deal. Or a matter of trust, I guess; just gotta count on the idea that somebody pushing stuff into your brain isn't going to do something malicious in a tough spot." Nicasia glances up when the water shuts off and then straightens up, just a little, rolling her head from side to side like she's getting ready for the Big One.

Then. "Alright. One more. This time you concentrate on blocking it, alright? I don't have the faintest idea how that works, just hold fast to the idea that I'm like... pushing on your brainmeats and don't let me there, okay?" Because this makes so much sense. So much.

Once more she takes a breath and closes her eyes for a moment, then lets it out, and while there is maybe the idea that she did something, the sense of whatever it is lapping around him like invisible water, or bursting against his skin like an invisible bubble, there's not actually any specific deluge of emotion this time. One eye cracks open and she eyes Robin for a beat, then straightens up a little more and bows her head slightly, like she's pushing harder. Surely she is; surely there's something there, that vague static charge like electricity is building in the air, but there's no sudden rush of happiness or sadness or anger or whatever else.

The bottle of Jack he was drinking from in the shower flies into his room, immediately tucking itself away in one of the hiding spots. He makes his way down the stairs as the bottle tucks itself away. Pulling a baggy t-shirt on. Myles is wearing baggy basketball shorts as he moves into the kitchen looking over the two.

Myles looks from Nicasia to Robin. Back then back again. He lets out a quiet grunt. "What's goin' on?"

Robin considers this suggestion, frowning slightly. "I think... Yeah. Okay. I'll try to keep track of what's me, I guess?" He pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged and rests his hands on his knees as he watches her, getting ready to defend against... Whatever it is. After a moment, he closes his eyes to better focus, a frown tugging at his lips and his brow furrowing slightly. With every brush of water or bubbles or whatever it is, his fingers tighten a little on his knees, but there's no other obvious reaction to suggest he has been affected by anything.

When Myles speaks, he opens first one eye, peeking out, and then the other. "Nothing, I guess. We were trying to practice Jedi mind tricks." He stretches a little and eyes Nicasia. "Did you do anything? I thought I was going to feel something, but then nothing."

At least Myles isn't sneaky coming down the stairs. Nicasia doesn't startle out of her pushy mental state but she does let it go and leans back, curling her other leg up under her now too. Robin's explanation is allowed to stand; she gestures at him with a little two-fingered curl of one hand. "He volunteered to be a guinea pig, see if I can replicate whatever it was I did back in that shitty bargain box wine world." The same hand makes a wobbly little side-to-side gesture, suggesting that results are pretty mixed. She does eye the bigger man sidelong for a moment, mouth thinning slightly, but there's not much further comment. Yet.

It's Robin that she answers. "Yeah. It wasn't anything particularly terrible, but I imagine you'd have known it if you'd gotten it."

"You did it to me." Myles grunts. "Didn't you? Didn't you do something to me? While we were-- We were talkin' and I said some shit and you... Did somethin'." Comes the accusation, he looks over to Robin then back to Nicasia. He frowns lightly, tucking his hands into his shorts pockets. "We gonna keep practicin' or yall wanna eat?"

"Ha!" Robin celebrates, with a tap of the back of his fist against his knee. "That's proof of concept. So it /can/ be countered, which means it's just a matter of practice resisting." That's the theory, but Myles's words take the wind out of his sails a bit. He glances between the two a few times, then suddenly unfolds and climbs to his feet. "Yeah, we better check the food. I bet it's almost done. Myles, we should totally practice, too, you know. The mind games are interesting, but our shit is more fun." He skims the room, seeking... something. Dog toy, perhaps! But any small, inoffensive item will do. With a waggle of his fingers, it lifts into the air and tosses itself gently at Myles, like some sort of bizarro game of catch.

"Maybe," Nicasia admits. But something in his tone, that subtle accusation, wins him a frown. "Wasn't on purpose."

She doesn't get up immediately. Just sits, watching the pair of them, a slow slide of her gaze from one to the next that results in the end at a narrowing of her eyes at Myles. But Robin seems to have the right, getting up and going to find the dog toy. There are plenty of those, though this may rapidly turn into a three-player game if they aren't a little bit careful, and of the three Lady is probably the best at catching flying toys. "Should be done soon. I set the timer, but you can certainly set the table. Another month and a paycheck or two and we could even eat outside." Something in her tone suggests this might be a novelty, but it does give them a head start.

Lady is up on the ground and moving to catch the toy, Myles is caught off guard. He's knitting his brows. Looking down at the toy as it falls in a big arc, Myles is pushing backward on his bare feet. Setting himself firmly into the ground, swinging his hand up.

He catches it. Late. Just a few inches above Lady's waiting maw, open and expecting. There's a gentle whine from the dog when the toy never falls. Myles looks over to the toy, blinking as it suspends itself in the air. A little torn up monkey, dangling above her jaws. He slowly lifts the toy up a little fit before flinging it back to Robin.

There's a lot more force as it flies with significantly more force at Robin. Though it's still just a little barely stuffed monkey. She set the timer. "Potstickers should be done though." Beat. "Did they really make you sick?" A glance to Robin. "You like Chinese, Robin?"

Robin doesn't even bother trying to catch the monkey, with it flying so forcefully back at him. He holds up flat palms just in time to stop the monkey in midair. Its forward momentum suddenly halted, it flops to the floor where the dog can no doubt easily retrieve it. "All right... Good practice." He watches Myles a little more closely as the man moves on to talking about dinner, but gives a one-shouldered shrug. "Sure I do. Who doesn't like Chinese?"

Uh-huh. "Careful," Nicasia warns, "he's awfully competitive." As demonstrated by the harder mental shove of the little monkey. Ah, but she doesn't seem especially worried. Just watches for a moment before shaking her head.

Eventually she does get to her feet though, and goes the other way - down the hall - into the kitchen, circumventing them both so she can check on the potatoes, which at least are done enough that she takes them off the heat and dumps them into a strainer. "Maybe it wasn't the potstickers," she informs Myles, but there's some deflection in that. Of the white mystery cartons, which aren't even labeled as to their contents, she can say only, "This place isn't half bad, for some podunk little corner shop. Though by this point I think we've been through half the menu: it's the closest place, and, well."

Good practice

"Aw, come on, now. Try somethin' else." He glances over to the coffee table and the remote slides up, Myles fingers give a little waggle and it soars in a high slow arc towards Robin. He watches over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the kitchen. "They've got good spicy chicken." Which isn't actually the name of the dish. "And I fuck with that ginger beef." He declares as he walks into the kitchen behind Nicasia.

"Toss it back." Myles is calling out, leaning against the counter, waiting for Robin. There's a beat. "So you don't know many people here, hm?"

Nicasia's warning does at least have some effect, because it's got Robin giving a kind of wary smile as he looks over at the remote and gives a little twirl of his finger to set it spinning in midair. "I mean... Now that I think about it, don't most people say no playing catch in the house?" He wanders after the two, toward the kitchen, with the remote floating alongside. A flick of his fingers sends it lightly spinning toward Myles, at his request. "I don't, not really. I mean, I've /met/ people, but I don't know them. Some of them I've been avoiding. You know there's people in town trying to make friends with the shadow creatures?"

"If you manage to break something tossing that remote around we've got a bigger problem than you just playing catch. Jedi tricks, and all. Should make you do it blindfolded..." Nicasia might be a card-carrying closet geek. Possibly. She mumbles that last part though, so it might be hard to tell if that's actually what she says. Once the potatoes are shaken off and dumped back into the pot she looks at some somewhat mournfully. "I'm really, genuinely torn between this and the spicy sauce. But hell. You shoulda brought home ice cream, we could have had a regular three course meal." Because that is totally how it works.

But the question gets asked and the answer is given and her gaze snaps over to Robin, one eyebrow arching. "Who what now?"

The remote is caught mid air and sent back into the living room, going to lay gently on the coffee table once more. He gives a shrug. "This house can get fucked." Comes out rather abruptly. He waves a dismissive gesture, "Well you know us now. Yeah." Beat. He squints a little make friends with the shadow creatures. He glances over to Nicasia.

"You drink, Robin? We got some beer and a little bit of whiskey." Which might come as a surprise to Nicasia. "What do you mean makin' friends?" He glances to Nicasia as he moves to the fridge. Giving a shrug. "I thought I was doin' good gettin' you food, woman. Didn't know you were gonna start spontaneously cooking." He grunts. "You want a drink?"

Robin finds a wall to lean again, since he's not much help with the potatoes. "Put the spicy sauce on the potatoes," he suggests. "Perfect compromise."

As for the shadow creatures, he glances between Nicasia and Myles brow quirked. "Have you been over on Oak street? Those houses that have perfect weather even when it's freezing rain everywhere else? I met them. They're claiming it's fairies or some shit, but I figure it's shadow creatures pulling tricks." He gives a nod toward Myles at the offer. "I won't drink up all your whiskey, but I'd take a beer."

"But yeah," he continues, now that he's warmed to his topic. "I think the one guy's either a closet case or a bigot. Right after I blew into town, I was biking past his place and someone left a bomb full of rainbow glitter on his porch." A beat. "Also a bunch of gummy dicks. So anyway, I stopped riding down Oak street."

There's going to be some staring. First at Myles when he admits to having whiskey. This is the narrow-eyed variety, a little sharper than most of what Nicasia's displayed thus far. It's watchful, assessing, and there's a greater than zero chance that she doesn't totally like what she sees. But. "I appreciate the gesture. Wasn't expecting to start spontaneously cooking until somebody left this fridge full of food her, and somebody to show up and fix all the drains. I'm gonna stick with water, thanks." Though probably not tap water. Look.

The second bit of staring is for Robin, when he suggests the cardinal sin of putting the sauce from the chicken on the potatoes. This doesn't even get words, just a slight open-mouthed look of subtle horror, and a pointed move of the potato pot to the other side of where she's standing, like it needs to be defended. Ah but the question gets met with a slight shake of her head. "Haven't been, no. Perfect weather?" And the slightly more incredulous, "Faeries? I wonder if those are cryptids or just regular run of the mill weird shit like the sirens." By the time he gets to the glitter bomb and the gummy dicks she looks utterly bemused though and shakes her head. Right. "Chopsticks or a fork?"

Myles is slowly looking over towards Robin. Squinting. "Fairies. It's.." He stops speaking, allowing Robin to continue. He looks over at Nicasia, opening his mouth. Falling silent and Robin gets a confused look about mixing the potatoes and the spicy chicken. Not horrified, just confused as if he must have heard him wrong. That's it.

Nicasia's tight eyed look is mostly ignored as the fridge opens and he's tossing---the normal way--one of their few leftover beers to Robin. When Nicasia asks questions, Myles grunts quietly. "He's talkin' bout Ava. And probably Ravn? They both live over there. Fairies are Ava's. Don't know why you think she's lyin', she's done right by us so far."

Robin catches the beer, but glances between Myles and Nicasia with a little puzzled look. "Oh, /that/ Ava? Huh... No, I mean, she seems nice enough. I don't think she's lying, exactly, but those creatures can be tricky, you know? And I've never met one that's been up to anything good." He rolls the beer can through his palms, fidgeting randomly without paying much attention to what he's doing. "Ravn... Maybe? Last name is like... Applebottom? Applegarter? Something weird. Oh, I guess a fork is fine."

"Have you met many faeries?" It's hard to tell whether Nicasia is more or less baffled by this. Utterly bewildered by it, despite apparently recognizing that it could very much be a thing.

She collects plates out of one of the cupboards though, and three forks. Though two of these are, for the moment, set on the counter, only one of them set with a plate. The oven does actually beep about now, interrupting her long enough to take the meatloaf (sans pan) out, and that goes on the burners to cool while she goes in search of butter and milk. "That would be Ravn, yeah. He seems to be a decent guy. Him, and Ava, and really all of the glowfolk I've met so far. They're just a little bit - or a lot - much, sometimes. Who knows. Maybe longterm exposure to this place has permanent side effects."

"I don't know his viking ass last name." Myles is starting to say, but Nicasia steps in and he gives a grateful nod. "The faeries keep up her yard, she says. That's why she didn't make ours crazy." He motions with one hand to the backyard. Which is nice but not INSANE. "Like all Disney and shit."

Though Nicasia's comment on permanent side effects garners a slow, sidelong look.

Robin shrugs a shoulder. "Someone felt strongly enough to cover him in rainbow paint," he points out, but leaves it at that. His gaze follows Myles's gesture in the general direction of the backyard, with some faint concern. "I mean... I haven't /met/ any fairies, that's kind of the point. Fairy circles? Seriously? That's not a real thing. It's probably some sort of portal into the shadows. Like what happened in your basement."

There's a barely audible mumble something to the effect of nobody better put no goddamned faeries in my backyard as Nicasia also looks toward the backyard, half wary, but she soon shoves all that back under the metaphorical rug. She might be reconsidering the lack of alcohol already given the way she grabs a bottle of water and twists the top off. With intent. "It could be a real thing. Apparently there might actually be a lot of that thing, if you take what that lot say at face value. The second time I met Ravn he told me all about the sirens in the harbor. Sirens. Fish women who live in the water and lure men in with their songs and then feed that flesh to their offspring. Like this is an actual thing that contributes to the boating death toll. So sure. Faeries. Why the fuck not."

"We were just playin' catch with our minds." Myles reminds in an even voice. "There's apparently a fighting ring of psychic fuckin' lobsters or some fuckin' thing. We can travel to another--weird ass place. There are actual monsters. Weird ass shit everywhere and--" He squints a little at Robin. "You draw the line at fairies?" He lets out a scoff of a laugh. "Fuck man. I dunno. I don't know if they're real or they aint, all's I know is that I don't know shit. "

Robin shakes his head a little. "No, you don't get it." He sighs and has a drink of his beer, and looks back and forth between Nicasia and Myles. "Sirens? Fairies? Psychic lobsters or whatever the fuck you just said. I think it's all the same thing. Or different versions of the same thing. They /like/ fucking with us. If they can look like eighth grade assholes, cop cars, alcohol rivers... Why not fairies?" He taps the table with a chopstick in a distracted fidget. "I don't draw the line at anything anymore. But I also don't feed cookies to monsters and expect that's going to make them be cool."

The litany of things that are gives no comfort to Nicasia, but once she's done with the mash she nabs a carton from the Chinese side of dinner options and opens it up to pull some of the contents out with her own set of chopsticks. Lo mein. "I can get behind that I think," she says to Robin. "Maybe they are all weird shadow things. Maybe not. A certain measure of caution might not be the worst option."

Myles squints slightly over at Robin when he’s informed he doesn’t get it. He lets out a quiet grunt, “And you’re basing that shit off what?”

He shrugs. “I don’t pretend to know shit. Ava and Ravn though they seem to know a bunch of shit. So if Ava thinks it’s fine to have fairies in her backyard I’m inclined to believe her. Unless you can prove it? Cause you’re sayin ‘I think’ a lot. But I also haven’t asked Ava about it much. Maybe there’s a certain way to deal with em.” He shrugs as he goes to pull his plate out, handing one to Robin.

Robin eyes Myles right back. For a moment, he looks like a kid who wants to start a fight. And a scared kid at that, trying not to show it. But then he grabs the plate, smiles tightly, and helps himself to some of the potatoes. "Go play with the fairies if you want. /I/ don't give a shit." He adds some meatloaf, and after some consideration, a couple of potstickers. "That exit door trick is probably super easy to learn. If you /do/ get sucked in again, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Hey. Can we all just agree that collectively we don't know shit and leave it at that? I don't want faeries in my backyard. I don't care if they are shadow things or evil little mythological pranksters or actually very friendly little sprites who make it into my own personal Disneyland. Pretty sure the secret psychic lobster fight club thing is... I don't know. This whole place is a little bit fucked up, alright?" Yes. This is Nicasia's attempt at bomb defusing. The low-powered one; there's a little lift of an eyebrow that comes along with it as she looks between Robin and Myles.

Myles slowly turns towards Robin at that. It's an old trick. The slow, Remember How Big I Am? Trick. A turn of his entire body and a slight raising of his shoulders while still remaining conversational. Myles gives a little shake of his head. "S'alright to be scared." He finally rumbles. "We all are. I'm just sayin', never smart to think you found the guy you're looking for when you're three hundred feet away." Don't jump to conclusions is probably what he means to say.

Starting to load up his plate, Myles looks sidelong at Nicasia. There's a quiet scoff. And low. Very low. Perhaps at a volume that he sooort of doesn't want Nicasia to hear, "Your backyard."

Myles loads up on more Chinese food than meatloaf though he does take a little. And a couple pieces of potatoes. He's not heartless he'll appreciate the effort at least. When Robin starts talking about the door, Myles pulls up his shoulders. "Maybe. I dunno if I'm that far along."

Robin rolls his eyes at Myles's words. "Damn right you should be scared. The point is, I don't actually care if they're shadows, or fairies, or... I dunno, a gas leak making everyone hallucinate. The point /is/, if it quacks like a monster, maybe don't offer it cookies." He picks whichever of the unlabeled Chinese food boxes has plenty of sauce and spoons it over his potatoes. Because in addition to a criminal mixer of metaphors, he is apparently also a heathen. He scoops a bit of his creation up with a fork and tries it, giving a slow nod at the plate as he chews.

After that break to compose himself, he shoots an apologetic glance at Nicasia, then toward Myles. "Look. At what point did /you/ guys realize something was watching you from the shadows? How long ago?"

It may be that Nicasia has lost her appetite because she just pushes the food around on her plate with her chopsticks, like a little game of scoot the noodle. She does eye Myles again when he shifts positions, when he lifts his shoulders, and there's a little roll of her eyes that is probably the equivalent of him mumbling things he doesn't want her to hear. It's fine because she then looks away from him, out the back door, at the yard in question. Maybe yard faeries are enough to make her not be hungry anymore.

But then Robin comes back with another question and it's a couple of moments before she shakes her head. "I don't know. There's not a date I can pin that on. Maybe because I had an overprotective asshole of a father and can't really tell you when it stopped being him keeping tabs on me all the time and me just imagining something was occasionally following me. It's never..." She pointedly doesn't look at her partner for any of this, but there's plenty else she can look at. Her water bottle. The door. The windows. The dog. Their guest. Whatever. "Professionally, I am also a little bit paranoid. So what's paranoia, and what's actual literal shadow critters?"

There's a slow tightening of his jaw as Myles looks down to Robin. His mouth opens up, but Nicasia's words catch them still in his throat. There's a slow look back down to Robin. Finishing making his plate he simply makes his way to the kitchen table and plunks down. He falls silent, snapping his fingers to call over Lady.

When Lady arrives, Myles goes to pet her head gently, chopsticks in his dominant hand he starts eating, eyes flicking over to the pair as he watches them silently between big ol mouthfuls.

Robin pokes at his food, letting Nicasia talk. He pauses to take a long drink of his beer, then pushes the empty can away. "The difference is shadow critters grab you, sooner or later." He takes a deep breath and pushes his plate away. "Listen, I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't think your ex does, either. But thank you for dinner. It really was great." He climbs to his feet as he talks, and clears his plate to the kitchen sink. "I was serious about the practicing. And the odd jobs, if you change your mind about fixing some of this stuff." With his plate cleared, he steps over to scoop up his toolbox.

"...yeah," says Nicasia after a long moment. "Alright. Let me walk you out, settle whatever I owe you for the labor." Because nothing is quite as banal and unlike that as home repairs and billing. She sets her chopsticks down and gets up, so that she can accompany Robin to the door and can collect her wallet from the pocket of her jacket, hanging over there by the stairs someplace.

Except it's not just the wallet, it's the jacket itself and her keys from a little basket on the table in the hallway there, because dinner seems to be over.